


Chausie

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Puppy Play, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Seven keeps things spicy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Human pet” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/149673766130/fic-bingo).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She’s well aware that she shouldn’t be drinking coffee late in the evening—or at least, what constitutes for evening on her shift rotation—but sometimes it really can’t be helped. After Neelix’s surprise ‘treat’, which Kathryn somehow managed to take a full sip of without throwing up, she needs something to cleanse her pallet. There’s nothing better than a strong cup of black coffee to set her straight again. She’s trying to finish it up as she goes, wanting it gone before she heads off to find Seven—if there’s one non-holographic person who won’t hesitate to scold the captain for such habits, it’s Seven of Nine.

She has about one gulp’s worth left by the time she finally steps through the door of her quarters. The second it closes behind her, she chokes on that gulp and has to wheeze it back into her mug.

It isn’t unusual to leave her shift and find Seven in her quarters. But it’s wildly unusual to find Seven _like this_ , and it’s all Kathryn can do to splutter out the shock. Seven lifts both delicate brows, slightly stretching the sleek metal of her implant, but otherwise says nothing. She’s perched elegantly in Kathryn’s armchair, one long leg crossed over the other. From head to toe, she’s nothing but flawless, creamy skin, washed in the almost firelight-like glow of the forty-percent lights. She’s utterly _naked_.

Except, Kathryn notes with even more confusion, for a brown headband threaded through her drawn-back platinum hair. It sprouts brownish, furry, dog-like ears on either end. A shaggy tail drapes across the cushion next to her thigh, disappearing around her slender back, attached to god-knows-where. Long after Kathryn’s finished coughing, she’s left simply ogling. Seven’s always a magnificent sight. The view of her gorgeous body entirely bare is almost too much to handle all at once—Kathryn usually prefers to strip her slowly, savouring every luscious reveal. 

When Seven offers no explanation, Kathryn finally manages to ask, “What’s the occasion?” Not that there is any occasion for _this_. It feels like a treat, nonetheless. 

Seven drops her hands primly atop her knee. Her posture’s already perfect, perked breasts thrust forward and rosy nipples pebbled in the lukewarm air of Kathryn’s quarters—trust Seven to not notice the cold. Her crossed legs hide the treasure between her thighs, which is probably for the best—Kathryn has enough trouble keeping her gaze on Seven’s face as it is. Seven calmly responds, in the same tone with which she would deliver an Astrometrics report, “The doctor has informed me that humans require diversity in their intimate encounters with exclusive partners to assure that their attentions do not waver. He called it ‘spicing up the relationship.’ As Lieutenant Paris was nearby and is widely considered to have some knowledge of the subject, I inquired further. He suggested several reading materials—which proved thoroughly inaccurate and grossly divergent in legibility, but did prove enlightening in regards to certain aspects of the human psyche.” Seven pauses, wherein Kathryn tries to follow the almost Vulcanoid story and determine which ‘reading materials’ exactly Tom showed her. As it must be obvious that Kathryn’s still too stunned to add anything, Seven resumes: “I immediately rejected the more destructive themes—‘kinks,’ according to Lieutenant Paris—under the assumption that you would not wish to harm me. I also assumed that you would wish to retain authority in any activities that required it. After a thorough review of the remaining four-hundred-and-sixty-two options, I determined that ‘puppy play’ would be the most fitting.” Again, Seven takes a breath, and Kathryn only gapes. “You have, after all, frequently mentioned your desire to see your dog again.”

Molly. Kathryn would’ve never thought of her from seeing Seven. For one thing, Kathryn tried to keep Molly off the furniture, and for another, she was never even remotely attracted to her dog.

She’s not sure how she feels about being attracted to someone playing a dog. The saving grace is that Seven couldn’t be less canine if she tried. It’s hard to picture Seven slobbering over a shoe, but the mental image of her following Kathryn around on a leash or licking leftovers off a plate in Kathryn’s lap isn’t entirely unappealing.

Seven concludes, as though it isn’t abundantly clear, “Tonight, _I_ will be your dog. Metaphorically speaking.”

Kathryn can feel her face flushing hot. Her whole body’s getting hot. She eventually manages to note, “Naked.”

“Dogs do not wear clothing,” Seven says flippantly, before adding with one of those small, coy smiles that Voyager’s so rarely blessed with, “Besides, it is meant to be arousing.” Seven’s blue eyes flicker once down Kathryn’s body, slowly trailing back up. “...Which it clearly is to you.”

Kathryn clarifies, “ _You’re_ arousing to me.”

Seven says a nearly-smug, “Thank you.” She’d probably make a better cat than dog. She bends forward with a practiced grace, reaching for the floor of Kathryn’s quarters, and makes her way to all fours. That view is just as sinful. When Seven crawls off towards the bedroom, Kathryn’s able to see exactly where the tail’s attached.

Kathryn swiftly follows, making a mental note to give Tom and the doctor a commendation in the morning.


End file.
